Dear Dean
by FeathersMcStrange
Summary: Sam believes he is going to die, and he has accepted it. The Trials are going to kill him (he thinks) and he doesn't want to die before he can say goodbye. So he wrote a letter, and stashed it in his desk for Dean to find when he died. Only he's not dead. And now Dean's found the letter. (Part one of two posted.)


**I'm sorry.**

**So like from now on all of my author's notes should begin with 'I'm sorry' because I am a terrible person and this is going to hurt.**

**Basically, I wrote a letter from Dean to Sam when he knew he was going to die in season three. And as Sam is getting sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker, I think he would write a letter to Dean too.**

**So just for reference, SAM IS NOT DEAD IN THIS STORY.**

**THIS IS NOT A DEATHFIC OKAY.**

**He's just... Eh... taking precautions, let's say, just in case.**

**I'm going to write a second part with Dean finding the letter and reading it (while Sam is still alive) and his reaction to that whole thing, and if you want I will post it.**

**Enjoy I guess, and grab some tissues!**

* * *

Dean,

Both of us should have seen this coming. You and I both knew that I wasn't likely to make it to forty. I mean, look at what kind of luck I've got. It was wasn't going to happen. I just... I'm sorry I'm leaving you alone. It's not what I wanted, but it had to happen. Someone had to take on the Trials, and it was better me than you. Now hopefully you can do what you've always wanted.

Get out. Live a normal life. Find some great girl and marry her. Have a bunch of kids. You can have that life you always dreamed of, Dean. I mean, I closed the gate, and there are still people like Gareth to do what needs doing. You've given enough to the world. _We've_ given enough to the world.

I'm really sorry, you know.

About leaving you behind. Leaving you alone. I didn't want to. God, it was the last thing I wanted to do. But... I had to. Just like you said you had to when you sold your soul for me. It's what we do, isn't it? Make stupid sacrifices for each other. I guess it was just my turn to be the martyr. How screwed up is that, that we're taking turns dying for each other, for everyone we know, for the world... It gets tiring after a while.

I am so _tired_, Dean. To be honest, the only part of this I regret is what it's going to do to you. I don't mind dying. I hope I go to heaven. It would be nice to see mom and Bobby and Jess again. I'll tell them hi from you. Don't join us too quick, alright? Take your time.

One thing I want to say though, provided you've not got too angry and stopped reading this, is thank you. I never said it enough, and I'm sorry for that. You gave up everything for me, to make sure I was safe and that I had the best life I could have. I... I think I took that for granted a lot, especially when we were kids. There was so much you could have had, so much you could have done, but you gave it all up, just for me. I won't pretend I understand why, but please know that I can never fully express how grateful I am to you. For protecting me. For taking care of me. For raising me. For everything. Thank you for everything you've given me.

I shouldn't have been your responsibility. You shouldn't have had to go to my parent teacher conferences, or not eat so I wouldn't go hungry, or teach me to talk or walk or anything else that was supposed to be dad's job. But you did. You did it all.

You were a great parent, Dean, and I love you for that.

See, the words aren't all that hard now, though they always seemed to get stuck in my throat when I tried to say them. Dying changes everything, I guess.

I guess it's kind of selfish of me to ask this of you, but please try not to hate me too much for everything that I've done, and everything I didn't do. I know what it feels like to lose a sibling, and I know that a little part of me was so, _so_ angry with you for what you did when I died the first time. Please don't hate me. Please don't be angry with me.

I don't want that kind of feeling on your shoulders. You have enough to deal with already.

I'm sorry.

I'm... God I am so sorry. Much as I would like to go to sleep and never wake up, I never wanted to hurt you like this. I can see it in your eyes. There's so much _pain_ in you, and I hate that I am the cause of it. I can't apologise enough. I don't know if I could _ever_ apologise enough.

My days are numbered. While I'm writing this, the clock is ticking down, and soon enough I'm going to be gone. Please move on. Please get past me. If I had my way, I would make sure you forgot I ever existed, if it would spare you the kind of agony I know is coming soon. But the world is a hard, cruel place.

I'm really going to miss you, you know. I mean, I'm going to miss a lot of things, like the feeling of sunshine on your face the first day of spring, and the hum of the car while I'm sleeping, and Kevin, Garth, Charlie... But most of all, I'm going to miss you. It's a stupid wish, stupid of me to think this is even a possibility, but please try not to cry for me too much. I never really knew what to do when you cried, and I can't bear the thought of not even being able to awkwardly pretend I can't see it. I love you, and I don't want to hurt you. But I'm okay with it if it means you're safe.

I suppose this is goodbye then. Goodbye, Dean.

All my love, gratitude, and apologies.

Your little brother.


End file.
